Lost by SnapeJuice

"In dreams and in love there are no impossibilities."
•Janos Arany

one

You see him ages before he sees you.

You look lost, he introduces himself, black hair tousled, as he stands in front of you on the train platform. The urge to flatten it, to touch him, was almost too much.

I am, you reply.

No, you're not, he answers, grabbing your satchel as the other first years mill about. You're with me, and I never get lost.

*****

two

You watch his mouth as he speaks more often than you listen to what he says.

Remus, he sighs. Do pay attention.

His lips move as gracefully as a dove, as its wings come up, stay balanced for but a moment, a second really, then fall with no consequence.

Remus, he sighs. Are you thinking about the homework again?

You nod automatically. As if there was any way you could tell him his mouth is the one thing you think about night and day. He is blessed with the courage of a lion and built with the body of a greyhound.

And the mouth of an angel.

Remus, he sighs. Do pay attention.

*****

three

There's more to life than studying, he whispers, placing a hand on your shoulder as you are bent over a book in the library, his beautiful mouth just inches from your ear.

More to life than studying? you ask, even though you know he is right. You look up from your book. You would do anything just to make him talk.

To make him flex the wings that are his dimples, and his pink lips, and his white teeth.

We could sneak out, we could transform, we could do anything. We don't have to study, he says. Maybe tonight, you and me. . .

You stare at him.

Maybe tonight, you and me and James and Peter could go into the Forbidden Forest.

Function returns.

It's all child's play, really, Sirius, you say nonchalantly. Besides, I have to study. Your eyes pry themselves away from him and focus on your book.

Why do you study so much, Remus? he asks you.

You think about it for a second. It makes me forget about my secrets, you state.

*****

four

So who are you going to ask to the Halloween Fling? James asks, interrupting your thoughts.

No one, you answer.

I am going to ask Laura Quigley, Peter adds. Nobody asked Peter.

I may ask Lily Evans, James adds. Nobody asked James.

I think maybe Clara Pumpernickel, Sirius says.

Don't think, Sirius. Your brain may explode, you spit, before walking from the group.

*****

five

Welcome back to the world of the living, Sirius starts. Full moon, was it?

You know it was, you answer haughtily. And you know how I feel. . . after.

Tut, tut, Remus, he chastises, you missed homework. Professor Binns may not let you turn that in late.

How was Clara? you say, to make conversation. You don't really care about Clara.

You mean, how is Clara? he clarifies.

No, I mean, how was Clara – in the sack – last night? you question, to make conversation. You don't really care about Clara.

Not as good as you could be, he says, a cryptic smile on his face.

Your jaw falls.

He backs away, hands held up. I was kidding, Remus. I was kidding.

Your jaw returns to its rightful spot.

*****

six

You think we'll be friends forever? Peter asks in the way Peter often asks, whimsically, worriedly and contentedly, all at the same time.

If I didn't know any better, Sirius challenges, I would say you were a teenage girl trapped in a sixteen-year-old boy's body.

I think we will be, James adds.

What do you think, Sir Howls-A-Lot? Sirius asks.

I think friendship lasts only as long as we're willing put up with each other, you contribute.

*****

seven

Can you believe seven years have come and gone? he asks as you walk toward the lake after the ceremony.

No, you say, tears welling in your eyes. This is over.

This is over.

You are one of my best friends, he says as you two look over the lake. The Giant Squid makes a splashful appearance, then slowly sinks downward.

He touches your hand gently as the sun sets behind the hills.

You're one of my best friends, too, you reply, facing him, that same unkempt hair appearing as it did on the platform those days ago.

Instead of ignoring it this time, though, you pat it down, gently. Your hand flutters over the dove's body, careful not to break it.

Your eyes lock, and he pulls you closer.

And he kisses you, as gently as you had touched his hair. Your noses move together, as you will your mouth open, and he enters it.

Backing away, he mutters, You are one of my best friends.

For lack of anything else, as you stare your love deep in the eyes, you reply, So are you.

I've loved you for ages, he admits.

So have I, you reply.

I know, he says in that endearingly smug way he has about him.

How did you know? you ask, shocked.

A boy's got to have his secrets, he replies coyly, leading you from the milieu, to the purposeful world in which your reality exists.

And you realize he was right, as you take his hand.

You never did get lost when you were with him.

FIM~FIN~SLUTT~ENDE~FINE

END

*****

Ralph: Everything all right for the shoot on Saturday, Ted?

Ted: Ah, yes, oi think so, sor. Oi'll go? Immediately?

Ralph: And Clive's leg all right?

Ted: He'll be all roight, sor. No worries.

Ralph: Good. Good. And. . . er. . . do you think you could wear the green overalls?

Ted: The green overalls, sor?

Ralph: If its. . . no bother.

Ted: Oh, its not a problem, sor. Oi'll have to get Mrs. Ted to give 'em a bit of a wash. Oi got a little bit of oil on them, tinkerin' with the tractor the other day.

Ralph: Yes, yes, I remember that.

Ted: You definitely wanted the green overalls, sor?

Ralph: Oooh, er. . . I just think they rather suit you, Ted.

Ted: Well, I – erm. . . ooh, I shouldn't have come down here like this, Ted. I'm terribly sorry, interrupting you while you were working, and, erm, dictating to you what you must wear. Y-you must wear what you like. I-I'll leave you, I'll leave you in peace. [walks away]

Ralph: It's not a problem, sor. It's not a problem.

~Ralph and Ted, The Fast Show

A/N I posted this at the behest of a friend of mine. This is the product of many, many, MANY doses of cold medicine. I don't read slash, I don't even like slash, but here it is, slash, coming from my brain. Oh, cruel, cruel world, why do you plant such ideas in my brain? Why, O humanity, why?